Until the End of All
by miss latvia
Summary: Fic written for candy--chan, Layton Secret Santa 2008. Since the moment she met him, she knew she had been bound to him. It wasn’t anything as unorthodox and ridiculous as “fate” because in a world where your mother is replaced by a thing, fate and trust


Since the moment she met him, she knew she had been bound to him. It wasn't anything as unorthodox and ridiculous as "fate" (because in a world where your mother is replaced by a thing, fate and trust is hard to believe in) but she knew there was something, something that tied her to him above all others, as though her soul was his – all she could think about, dream about was his face.

Infatuation?

When she'd been little, before the rebuilding and the secrets her father kept, there had been a boy. He was sweet with an angel's face and eyes brighter than the sun, but there had been _more_ to him than that. She had known there was more to him and she had watched him from her window like a princess wishing for a prince – she was Rapunzel and he was her saviour. He would come and rescue her and they would live happily ever after. But of course, no prince came to save her and the angelic boy faded from her memories.

Until they came.

She had followed them for almost the entirety of their stay in her little town. She had dressed in rags like Cinderella and watched them from afar, cursing their falls and praising their triumphs. Not even the appearance of the smelly, smoky man dampened her spirits and the hope that they would be the ones to save her from her dark prison. It was like a memory, remembering the angelic face of her prince and plastering it on _his_ face – she hadn't even realised she had fallen in love until it was far too late.

She was stolen away, the town fading into the back of her mind as a new life started. She had fallen asleep to the sound of their voices, the quiet laughter lulling her nightmares into brighter dreams, filling her broken heart with love, tenderness and hope. It was something she had never experienced before and she suddenly felt as though she had awoken in a new world – she had a family. But, despite the tenderness of a father and the love of a brother, she knew that she had fallen, and it brought a tear to her eyes at night.

Many years passed, and it took her months to work up mind and breath and spirit to find on her true words, the deep desire to confess. It was Valentine's Day, the perfect day for this, and she had spent the past week working on a card filled with meaning and hope and trust and _love_, above all love. It took her a while to write and plan and make, and in the end it was a well-made pink heart with a fluffy inside and a hard outside, much like the girl herself. She just wondered how it would be best to deliver it – embarrassment was simple for a girl her age. So she decided post would be the best option.

Come Valentine's Day, she was sitting alone at the breakfast table when he walked in with the post. Her cheeks instantly flushed seeing her pink card lying under other important letters, and she was half tempted to run and take it from his hands before he could open it. Instead she sat, twiddling her fingers and waiting for the dreaded moment where he'd not the pink, the deep obnoxious pink, and repel her forever. She glanced up and his hands were opening the card – suddenly, her heart was in her ears and her mind was aching.

And then he was reading it, and she almost fainted. She knew the instant he was done, for his eyes glanced up and looked at her head, her hair hanging over her eyes. He sighed and she bit back a sob, resisting the urge to crawl under her blankets and cry like the lost little orphan she knew she really was.

"... Oh, Flora..." He whispered; his voice was sorrowful and deep and her eyes watered. She had no way of resisting him, resisting who he was and what he had done for her, and now she knew that this confession was a mistake. Why had she made such a terrible, terrible mistake? He slipped down into his chair, placing the card on the table before him.

"Flora." He said, noting the distain written across her face, the regret and anxiety that stalked her every waking moment. "Flora..." She wanted to scream. Stop saying my name! Her heart whispered. Stop saying my name and say that you hate me already! And then the words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche.

"Flora... You are a very smart, kind and attractive young lady. But... I... You and I... It - It can't happen. You're too young, and I would never..." She shook her head. She knew this, she had known from the start, in a way, but wasn't there hope? She'd always had hope, even in the dark recesses of her life. She stood, her hands shaking and her heart breaking and she began to walk, even as the man behind her stuttered at her retreat.

She just wanted to be alone....

She was always alone.


End file.
